


How Many Hearts?

by queerbatnana



Series: KyouHaba Week 2016 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, It's pretty peaceful, KyouHaba Week 2016, Pianist!Kyoutani, Pianist!Yahaba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:50:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7512431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerbatnana/pseuds/queerbatnana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 1 (6/19): plants // music</p><p>Kyoutani watches the pianist bob his head lightly to the melody, eyes partially closed and expression serene. His eyelashes flutter and Kyoutani can feel his heart do the same.</p><p>Kyoutani loves the way Yahaba plays the piano.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Many Hearts?

**Author's Note:**

> guess what i'm doing~
> 
> (that's right, kyouhaba week :D)

Kyoutani watches the pianist bob his head lightly to the melody, eyes partially closed and expression serene. His eyelashes flutter and Kyoutani can feel his heart do the same. 

 

Kyoutani loves the way Yahaba plays the piano. 

 

His passion is obvious and Kyoutani can tell the hours Yahaba has spent. He might’ve also been there for most of those hours.

 

Today, Kyoutani’s in the doorway of the school’s music room listening to Yahaba play instead of the couch he would be perched on in the Yahaba’s living room. 

 

Yahaba’s music at home is different from when he’s at school. The pianos are the exact same models, sure, yet Kyoutani can’t help but think that there’s something different. Maybe it’s just the way Yahaba plays it; one would feel more familiar with the one they own usually.

 

But the school’s is the one Kyoutani practices on. It’s the one _he’s_ familiar with; there’s no piano at home.

 

Quick deft fingers dance across the white and black keys and Kyoutani wants to hum along to the enchanting tune Yahaba’s playing, but he doesn’t want to disrupt the already perfect atmosphere of sounds.

 

Notes float in the air, light and dainty, dissipating one after another and adding to the calm and tranquility. 

 

Music is a moving body of water; it can be the calm and soothing flow of a gentle stream, or the rushing and chaotic movements of rapids. 

 

Kyoutani thinks that Yahaba’s music is a river. 

 

It’s deep and speaks volumes. It’s strong and beautiful. It’s enchanting and breathtaking. It’s just like everything about Yahaba and Kyoutani loves it. Loves _him_ too. 

 

And then the music stops. It doesn’t drift off, instead, it breaks off, startling just as one would see the fall of an icicle. The silence is shattering glass, fractures running across Kyoutani’s daydreams as the quiet explodes in his ears. 

 

“Kentarou,” comes the soft voice out of the silence and Kyoutani snaps his eyes to Yahaba, meeting light browns with his own dark golds. 

 

Yahaba pats the spot beside him on the piano chair. “Come.”

 

And Kyoutani does. 

 

He pads across the room, footsteps light but audible. He reaches the leather touch of the seat and sits down with fluid movement. He’s not unfamiliar with this situation. 

 

Yahaba unzips his bag and shuffles through the contents, searching for worn sheets. He places them on the empty stand and slides closer to Kyoutani, thighs pressed and elbows knocking lightly against each other. 

 

Kyoutani can hear his gentle breathing.

 

Yahaba reaches the keys first, fingers ghosting their touch on the ivory coloured keys. Kyoutani mirrors his movements and even though the sheets are right in front of him, he doesn’t look at them; he doesn’t need to.

 

Two bodies wedged on a chair. Four hands dancing across rectangular steps. Eight fingers different from each other, but playing the same song. Two thumbs. 

 

One Kyoutani. One Yahaba.

 

Two hearts.

 

Kyoutani likes this song. It’s _their_ song. It’s the song he’ll hum on the way to school, it’s the song he wants to play in his head forever. It’s the song he’ll treasure simply because Yahaba likes it. 

 

Yahaba plays the bass and Kyoutani brings out the melody. They’re partners, in more ways than one. They play the piano together and are the captain and ace of the volleyball team. But not boyfriends.

 

_Not yet,_ Kyoutani argues and he’s so distracted that he almost misses a note.

 

Yahaba notices of course but doesn’t comment. 

 

Kyoutani struggles to keep going and just as he finally gets back into the zone, the bass stops. 

 

Kyoutani can feel a pair of eyes on him. 

 

“Kentarou…” Yahaba starts and Kyoutani is so fed up with… with _everything_ that he snaps. 

 

He stands up abruptly, already making a move to walk out and get away, but a hand grips his sleeve tightly, halting his footsteps.

 

He growls. “What.”

 

“Kentarou,” Yahaba repeats.

 

There’s no point struggle when Yahaba speaks to him that tone. The tone that’s soft. The tone that’s a little too affectionate. The tone that says that he understands. And he does. 

 

Yahaba understands Kyoutani and sometimes Kyoutani wonders whether that’s a good or bad thing. Wonders if that’s something he wants.

 

Reluctantly, Kyoutani sits down. Yahaba still hasn’t let go of his sleeve. Instead, he guides Kyoutani’s left arm towards the piano. Kyoutani frowns, but complies anyway, bringing his other hand to rest on the keys. 

 

When Yahaba lets go, Kyoutani feels as if something’s missing.

 

They try again, fingers moving in sync perfectly. Kyoutani doesn’t notice. 

 

Music starts to float again, this time, filled with a different emotion than a simple love for a hobby. It’s heavy and tangible, something that tastes like cinnamon. It’s spicy, bitter and sweet all at the same time. 

 

It’s them.

 

Kyoutani’s so focused on how the music sounds perfect that he doesn’t register that it’s because of how well they work together. Like they were made for each other. 

 

Music slides out of the room and into the empty hallway, filling it with the emotions that come from the source. 

 

Maybe they’re not boyfriends yet, but this might as well be a confession to each other. 

 

Kyoutani hopes that Yahaba understands what he wants to say.

 

Yahaba hopes too. 

**Author's Note:**

> i swear they're in love with each other
> 
> visit me on [ tumblr ](https://queerbatnana.tumblr.com/) !


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